


Of Lies and Logic

by summoner_yuna_of_besaid



Series: Best Destinies [8]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Chess, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 03:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summoner_yuna_of_besaid/pseuds/summoner_yuna_of_besaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It is illogical to live a life based upon a lie.”</p>
<p>“But if the life built on a lie is better than the life which is based upon truth, then would you not indulge in lying?”  Kirk frowned and shook his head.  “Well, you wouldn’t, but there’s many a human who would.”</p>
<p>“Would you, Captain?”</p>
<p>Eyes downcast, Kirk appeared to be thoughtful.  “I’d like to think not.”</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>Kirk and Spock play chess while having a debate about lying, morality, and love.  Post Dagger of the Mind and The Menagerie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Lies and Logic

It was in the midst of a game of chess that Spock asked the captain the query which had been languishing in his mind since the end of their last very trying mission. Spock had done quite a few things he could not quite bring himself to regret, because he did them for Christopher Pike – but they were still lamentable actions, which brought difficulties upon his current captain, James T. Kirk.

Times had been hard for them, even after the “golden trio” reconciled after the events on the Earth-like, post-apocalyptic planet. The incident upon the prison planet had sorely tested the Captain’s mind and made him suffer great pain; and the events leading up to Captain Pike’s departure at Talos IV had been even more difficult.

Spock had only just reconciled with the Captain, and had so quickly been forced to betray him to assist another. He had not been sure his actions would be forgiven; and yet, only a few days later, their cordial relationship had returned, and they were playing chess in the wreck room.

Which lead to Spock’s question.

“Captain,” He began. This prompted the man in question to lift his gaze, golden eyes shimmering with friendly, well-meant agitation, and perhaps a little mirth. “Jim.” Spock began again, and the Captain inclined his head.

“Yes, Spock?”

“I would like to inquire as to the purpose… or perhaps the nature… of lying.”

“Lying, Spock?” The Vulcan watched with sharp eyes as Jim appeared to make a quick, haphazard move on the board. “What do you mean?”

Interlacing his fingers, Spock created a steeple upon which he rested his chin. “More specifically, the act of lying to oneself.” That made Jim’s eyes rise. “Vulcans are incapable of lying – it is not a practice that exists among my people.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” The Captain smirked. “I’m pretty sure you’ve lied to me a lot this past week.”

“That… is not incorrect.” Spock inclined his head, a slight green tinged coming to his cheeks. “The actions I took to ensure Captain Pike’s safety and health were regrettable, and I apologize for causing difficulties for you by taking them.”

“Forget it Spock.” Kirk waved him off. “So, you want to know why someone would lie to themselves?”

“Why,” Spock nodded slightly. “And how they would go about doing so.” At the end of his words, Spock moved his chin, making his move upon the board, calculating further moves as he replaced his hand.

“You don’t ask simple questions, Spock.” The captain chuckled, a finger stroking his chin. He was reclined at a side angle in the chair, leaning on one elbow, eying the board through tired, slanted eyes.

“There would be no logical reason for asking simple questions, Captain – for simple questions would not be difficult enough to merit asking.”

Kirk waved his words away. “Of course, my literal friend.” His hand lingered over a piece, fingers dancing indecisively, before he lifted it away to a pawn and moved that instead. “There are quite a few reasons for lying. There’s… protection, for instance. Sometimes it’s safer to tell a lie.”

“How so?”

“Perhaps you are in a scenario where the truth will get you killed. Telling a lie in that case, is the only viable option.”

“Incorrect, Captain.” Spock quickly replied. He lingered over the board only a moment before moving his bishop and taking another of Kirk’s pawns. “It cannot be said that telling a lie in such a scenario is the only option – and in fact may not be the safest one.” The Captain inclined his head, a small smile on his face, indicating his interest. “If the person in this hypothetical situation tells a lie to their captor, and is caught lying, their actions may subsequently worsen their position or their treatment.”

“On the other hand,” Jim interjected, picking up his queen and gesturing with it in hand. “If telling the truth could lead to worse or larger consequences than personal harm, then the person in question cannot consider their safety first.” Placing the queen in its new position, Kirk let his arm fall. “Thus, they can only lie.”

Spock considered the position. “Then lying is, in some cases, a tool to mislead an opponent.”

“Yes.”

“But why would one deliberately mislead oneself?”

Jim seemed to consider it for a moment, even as he considered the chess board. He moved a pawn before speaking again. “In this case, protection could be the reason, too.”

“I do not understand.”

“Not every person can handle every truth.” Jim shrugged. “Sometimes, humans lie to themselves to protect them from truths they don’t like.”

“It is illogical to ‘dislike’ the truth.” Spock quirked an eyebrow. “Disliking it will not change the fact that it is true.”

“Yes, but not every human is capable of facing up to that fact.” Kirk acknowledged. “Let’s take another hypothetical scenario.” As he considered his speech, Jim examined the board again, moving forward in his chair. “Consider a family consisting of a mother, father, and a child. They’re happy, or at least content, though they have had their troubles. The mother hasn’t always been faithful,”

“Faithful, Captain?”

“Um – she’s been with other men without her husband knowing, and he found out.” Both Spock’s eyebrows rose at this, but he allowed Kirk to continue. “But they’ve managed to reconcile, work it out, and move on with their lives. Only, she finds out that their child is not the father’s, but has the DNA of the man she slept with.”

“What does she do? Upset the balance of the relationship she is in, which has only newly been repaired? She has to consider that this knowledge may be the last straw, that her husband will leave, their marriage fall apart. Her child would suffer for that. So, does she tell?”

“She must.” Spock insisted. “It is illogical to keep secrets from a life partner. No strong bond can exist between two people who cannot trust each other.”

“But this is a terrible thing, Spock.” Kirk speaks with sobriety and a somber tone, cajoling in its pitch. “She’s just put her life back on track. She and her husband are happy, they both love their child. Telling the truth may ruin three lives.”

“It may, but she cannot know for certain.” Moving another piece, Spock turned back to Kirk. “I believe it was your human philosopher, Kant, who stated that one must always do what is appropriately moral in the situation regardless of what the situation is, for one cannot know what the consequences will be.”

Kirk nodded. “A man comes to your door and asks you to hide him from a murderer, you hide him. The murderer comes to your door and asks where the man is hidden, you tell him.”

“For it is moral to do so.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“According to Kant’s logic, it is. It is morally correct to protect the man from the murderer, just as it is morally correct to tell the murderer the truth.”

“Even if the truth gets a man killed?”

“But you cannot know for certain that it will.” Spock moved his hands once again, fingers pressed together as if in prayer beneath his chin. “All you can control is your own actions, and it is your actions which must be moral. The actions of the murderer are not your concern. If you tell the truth, and the murderer kills a man, you have made the moral choice whereas the murderer has committed a crime. But if you lie, you have been immoral as well.” Looking up, Spock regarded his Captain. “The unfaithful mother in your scenario would be acting irresponsibility by withholding the truth. She cannot know what revealing the truth will do – but it is moral to reveal it. Though I am not certain how that relates to lying to oneself.”

“We’ve gotten a little off topic, but I did have a point.” Kirk adjusted his position, wincing a little as his legs began to spark and tingle from lack of circulation where his thighs pressed against the chair. “What if this knowledge is painful to the wife herself? If the idea that her child is not her husband’s child haunts her, past the point of being able to live comfortably? Then perhaps she’ll start lying to herself. The tests were wrong, she’ll say. The doctors were wrong. This is my husband’s child.”

“It is illogical to live a life based upon a lie.”

“But if the life built on a lie is better than the life which is based upon truth, then would you not indulge in lying?” Kirk frowned and shook his head. “Well, you wouldn’t, but there’s many a human who would.”

“Would you, Captain?”

Eyes downcast, Kirk appeared to be thoughtful. “I’d like to think not.”

“May I ask why?” That seemed to surprise the Captain and made him glance up. “You seemed not to disapprove of the act of lying to oneself, and yet profess you’d like to believe you would not do so.”

“Well,” The man shrugged slowly. “Humans tend to believe that a person is stronger if they don’t lie to themselves. That we’re somehow better people.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I buy into the hype most days.” One of his debonair, shining smiles shone through then. “Sometimes I’m not so sure. Sometimes I think lying to yourself is the last act of a desperate person who has been strong for too long.” A single finger came to rest upon the head of Kirk’s knight, making the piece rock slightly. “Things like, ‘it’s going to get better soon’, or ‘things will turn around’. Lies like that, everyone tells themselves, just to get through the day. Sometimes they turn out to be true… but not always.”

“Then lying to oneself is an act of preservation.” Spock replied. “Humans need such assurances to continue functioning adequately in highly stressful environments.”

“And Vulcans don’t?”

“I have already explained,”

“Right, right, Vulcans don’t lie, much less to themselves.”

“Do you Jim?” Head turning back to Spock, Kirk lifted an eyebrow. “Do you lie to yourself?”

In an instant, Kirk stood, pacing away from the board towards the far wall. “What prompted this?” He asked suddenly. “You always have a reason for everything you do, even when it’s just topics of conversations.”

Spock inclined his head, admitting to it. “I do have a reason.”

“And it is?”

“I am not sure I should say.”

“Now who’s lying?” The human scoffed.

“I am not telling a lie.”

“Lying by omission.” Kirk insisted. “By refusing to tell the truth at all.” His Vulcan friend looked affronted at that, which had been Kirk’s goal after all. After a moment’s hesitation Spock spoke.

“It has come to my attention that you may be currently engaged in believing in a self-delusion.”

“You mean, I’m lying to myself about something?” A chuckle escaped him, Kirk’s look brightening. “About what?”

For a moment, Spock adjusted his position in the chair, arms coming to lie back on the table. In a Vulcan, that was almost nervous fidgeting… almost. “Approximately four months, seventeen days, twelve hours and thirty seven minutes ago, you and I engaged in a mind meld.”

Kirk nodded. “I remember.” Not so exactly, but even so.

“From that meld, you obtained certain knowledge which you appear to have kept secret from certain members of this ship’s crew.” Spock continued, his tone growing vaguely hesitant. “The thought had occurred that you were somehow engaged in fabrication, in an attempt to rationalize keeping a secret which could only benefit you in the revealing.”

“Explain.”

A pensive look upon his face, Spock elucidated. “You could be operating under the belief that it is better for the ship for the Captain to abstain from serious emotional relationships. Or, perhaps you have convinced yourself that what you learned from the meld is not strong enough evidence to act upon. There are many lies you could have conceived to rationalize keeping your romantic attachment for Dr. McCoy from him.”

“I have a better question.” In an instant, Kirk moved, coming to sit again before the board. “You say Vulcans can’t lie. Your people may not make up facts, but they can distort them – or ignore them.” Eyes narrowing, Jim drove on like a man possessed. “For instance, the fact that in that very same mind meld which you and I shared, you obtained knowledge which you have yet to act upon, much less acknowledge; knowledge which you are even in this moment pretending is not real.”

“I have never ‘pretended’ that any proven fact did not exist.”

“Then what about the fact that I love you?” Spock’s hand fumbled with his queen, and the piece fell, rolling off the table. “I know you took that from the meld, I felt you take it. Yet in four months, seventeen days, and however many minutes and hours, not once have you spoken of it. Not once have you approached me to discuss it in any way.”

“What is there to be discussed?” Spock asked dryly. “Whereas your secret regarding the doctor merits discussion. He obviously shares your sentiment. Why have you not approached him?”

“Why have you not approached me?”

“That is not -”

“Why have you not approached me Spock?” Kirk almost shouted vehemently, fist hitting the table. “Here’s another theory for you. I think you’re scared. You’ve never had to face love from anyone; love, arguably one of the strongest and most illogical emotions ever felt, an emotion you’ve shied away from like all others. You realize that it will eventually become relevant, it’s inevitable, we’re friends and we’re co-workers, this isn’t something that will disappear. Something will eventually give and we’ll have to address it.”

“There’s only one way to keep from having to deal in any way with my love for you – to make it irrelevant.” Red faced, wide eyed, and passionate, Kirk kept going. “To make it so that my love for you ceases to exist, or is superseded by love for someone else. You must have thought that my feelings for Bones would be the answer, so you kept quiet, stayed out of the way, and waited for us to become involved. Only we never did.” Leaning forward, Kirk narrowed his eyes, voice dropping. “So now you’re here, trying to convince me to go to him, so you’ll never have to confront the feelings which you felt inside my mind.”

Their eyes met over the table: wide, passionate gold against slim, glimmering black. 

Spock reached down, picked up his queen, and placed her upon a new spot without ever lowering his eyes. “Check, Captain.”

The Captain stood; with a lazy gesture he reached out and tipped his king over, signaling his surrender. Spock’s eyes widened at the sight, and widened further when Jim walked by his chair, and leaned down towards him.

“Checkmate, Spock.”

Then he was gone, leaving the Vulcan alone in the rec room.


End file.
